


Routine

by erikaehm



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Family, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-05 23:36:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erikaehm/pseuds/erikaehm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kid!Ori doesn't like to get up in the mornings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Routine

“Ori, come now lad, time to get up out of bed.” Dori rumbles in that steady voice of his, bustling into the room and towards the window. The curtains are...old – he’d like to use the terms ratty, or grungy, but well that isn’t very polite to say, even about one’s own home – and he uses the utmost care to gentle himself as he peels them to the sides, revealing dingy, stained glass.

“Mam?” The Dwarfling murmurs, voice sweet with the emotion that settles between half asleep and half awake.

“Do I sound like Mam? Up, Ori.” Dori tuts. He uses the rag in his hand to swipe at a spot on the windowsill before turning back to the bed. Ori – the youngest of the Ri brothers – has pulled the blankets up over his head. The meager sunlight filtering in sets a warm, golden glow to the room. It brings the dust floating through the air to life but Dori can’t find it in himself to worry over it, not right now.

This is one of the rare moments of quiet in their lives. It’s one of the moments that, if their Mam was here – as opposed to being at work, struggling to scrape enough together to feed three growing boys and if they could afford a babysitter, Dori would be out there with her thank you very much– she would have that dreamy, soft smile on her face. He feels it echo on his own as he takes a second to just see.

“Mmhm. Five more.” The child whines, the noise accompanied by the lip-smacking yawn that little ones seem so fond of. In human years, Dori supposes Ori would be considered about four, or five.

“That’s what you said fifteen minutes ago, sweet.” It’s the nickname his Mam uses for their youngest – one that always sets a pink flush to his goofy, oversized ears. “Now, Ori.”

The Dwarfling peels the blankets down just enough that his eyes are uncovered. They’re fogged over still with good dreams and the warmth of his hand knitted quilt, but rapidly clearing. Still, Ori is a Dwarf and as such he is stubborn. A whine builds high in his throat before he flops over onto his side, corner of the quilt tucked up over his cheek. “Mmmno.” He groans, little self stretching and then settling.

Dori shrugs and smiles, knowing exactly what he has to do to get the youngest Ri up and about. It’s become somewhat of a routine, for them.

He takes a heavy step forward. “Ori. If you don’t get out of bed right this second, you know what’s going to happen little Dwarf.” There’s a giggle from the bed, and then the quilt is moving as the Dwarfling begins to wiggle about. “One...” Ori stays firmly tucked. “Two...” Dori is only a step away from the bed now, yet still no Ori. “Three!” He pauses, for a beat, but no Dwarfling pops up, so he lets his smile spread into a grin and lunges.

The shrieking laugh that pierces the air is loud enough to wake the dead, but the neighbours will all be up and at work by this time. There’s no one to disturb save Nori, and he’s due up anyway. 

Dori knows his strength and takes care to harness it as he mercilessly tickles his youngest brother through the covers, his own laughter joining in with Ori’s breathless cries for ‘Help, Nori! Help!’ A small, sockless – the child has the habit of taking them off in the middle of the night - foot collides with his face and he grimaces, thinking that maybe an after-breakfast bath is in order, too.

Still, he shows no mercy as his fingers tackle underarms and sensitive sides, Ori twisting and howling like a wolf in his efforts to get away. “I’m up! I’m up!”

“Should have thought of that earlier!” Dori tells him, before his hands find a belly and continue the ruthless torture. “If you’d gotten up when you’d been told you wouldn’t be in this mess!” The foot flies back at his head, so he captures it and digs his thumbs into the soles.

Ori’s laughing hard enough now he’s almost crying, but Dori doesn’t relent until the laughter turns into hiccupping gasps. He lets the Dwarfling go as he tries to reign in his own laughter. He knows by now his braids are askew and his grin won’t be fading until well after lunch. 

Ori rolls and presses his back into his brother’s leg, still fighting his helpless giggles. There’s a wide, gap toothed smiled on his face.

“Did you learn your lesson?”

“Mm-hm.” The little one nods, snickers, then drags himself over Dori and off the bed, bare feet slapping loudly against worn wooden floors as he flies out his door and towards the room that Nori and Dori share. There’s a shout of pain from that general direction. He sticks his head in through that door when he finally makes his way out, snorting to himself at the sight of Nori trying to burrow back under his pillows while an eager Ori bounces on his back, tugging at the braids on either side of his head, telling him it’s time to get up. The middle child flails backwards with one arm, catching Ori across the chest and rolling them over.

There’s a wicked gleam to his eyes. Ori is reduced to hysterical laughter even before Nori’s hands make contact with his vulnerable sides.

Dori shakes his head. Ori didn’t learn his lesson – they’ll be doing all this again tomorrow morning.

Yet he doesn’t feel irritated or bothered by it; these little routines of theirs are something to treasure, in a time where there is little treasure to be had.


End file.
